Happy Birthday to Us!

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My how time flies when you’re having fun!

Hello Darlings,

Petticoats and Pistols finished its first year in fine fashion and it’s time for celebratin’. The Fillies are all ready to kick up their heels and dance a jig. If only you could see us. We’re quite a sight.

We’ve dusted everything in sight, baked pies and cakes, and gotten gussied up in our best dresses.

Starting Monday and lasting all week, we’ll have a passel of treats in store for you — games, poems, and more fun things to do than you’ve ever seen. By Friday you’ll have learned everything you ever wanted to know about the Fillies. (Well most things anyway. I won’t tell you about the racket that comes from Cheryl’s and Pam’s houses sometimes. And that I cheat, but only on occasion and only with a handsome hunk of a cowboy. Shhh! It’s our little secret. )

AND to wrap up the shebang and tie it with a big bow, we have a whole wagonload of prizes to give out, a smidge over a dozen to be exact, at the end of the birthday bash.

Shoot, we’re just tickled to death to give back to every one of you who’ve given us so much! I swear, I don’t know where ever I’ve seen more loyal eager supporters of a group of cowgirls. You take the cake. We’re proud of our accomplishments and proud of you for sharing the ride with us.

Thank you all very much!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO US!

The Mountain

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Today, September 25, is my birthday.  I’m older than dirt, but that’s not what this post is about.  It’s about celebration—and challenge.   Every year, on or around my birthday, I try to do something a little crazy.  Once I took a flying lesson.  Another time I rafted the Grand Canyon.  Last year I went to Peru.  Some years find me at home.  Even then I celebrate—I  climb the mountain. 

Mt. Timpanogos (from a Paiute word meaning rocky river) is 30 miles south of my home.  Its spectacular summit rises to 11,749 feet.  The climb isn’t a technical one.  But it’s long and exhausting, about six hours to the top and three or four hours down.  For me and my family it’s become a September ritual. 

The trailhead starts at about 7,000 feet .  To say that the scenery is breathtaking is an understatement.  The trail zigzags upward through a series of hanging valleys.  In the summer there are wildflowers, in the fall the blaze of turning aspen and maple.  We usually see deer and moose.  Higher up in the rockslides we can watch the hay-gathering antics of little picas. 

Below the crags that mark the top, the land spreads out into a wide Alpine basin.  In July and August, when it’s filled with flowers, it looks a lot like the cover of my November book, THE BORROWED BRIDE.  In September the flowers are gone, but the hills are cloaked in hues of bronze and gold. 

The climb from there to the top is short but grueling.  The first stop is the “saddle,” a spot about the size of a bus (far right in photo), where you’re on the skyline but not the highest peak.  From there the trail zigzags across a sheer rock face to the summit.  It’s easy to get lightheaded at that altitude.  If you fall—and people have—they go looking for you with a body bag.  I did the full summit on my 50th birthday with my daughter and sister.  With my mild fear of heights, it scared the living daylights out of me.  At the top there’s this little metal hut.  I lay down on the floor and shook.  These days I just go to the saddle.  Once is enough. 

I was hoping to have done this year’s climb in time to write this blog.  But last weekend’s weather was iffy, and Timpanogos is no place to be caught in a storm.  The weather is looking better for Sunday, so I plan to go with my son’s family and maybe a friend or two.  I’ll let you know if we made it. 

How about you?  How do you feel about birthdays?  Do you have a special way of celebrating?

Click on one of the small books below to go to Amazon.com. 

 

       

 

 

 

 

Vickie McDonough and Victoria Bylin on Saturday!

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Hello again!

Saturday’s gonna be a heck of a day here in Wildflower Junction, I’ll tell you what. We’re gonna have ourselves two Vickies.

Miss Vickie McDonough and Miss Victoria Bylin will stop in and talk about the Badlands of North Dakota, favorite horses (both real and fictional) and who knows what else. All I do know is that whatever happens we’ll be in top form.

And they’re toting prizes too! Can’t beat a thing like that.

We have this entertaining business down pat. We do love having guests. It’s the highlight of our week just seeing who’s gonna ride over the ridge and into the valley. We always have a welcome sign hanging you know.

So, get yourselves busy. You have a personal invite from the Fillies to join us Saturday. Can you think of anywhere else you’d rather be besides with two Vickies and the rest of us?

Where Have All The Forts Gone?

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By Jeff Barnes

Mary and I were talking about topics I could use as an introduction to the forts and my book, “”Forts of the Northern Plains.” After a couple ideas were discussed, I thought I might talk about how the forts were built, and why some of them are still around and some aren’t.

When you visit the forts of the Northern Plains (and please take along my book as a guide!), you’re going to see a wide disparity in what remains. Fort Snelling in Minnesota and Fort Robinson in Nebraska, for example, have a great number of the original buildings in place. Posts such as Fort Abraham Lincoln in North Dakota have some rebuilt buildings, while other sites like Fort Sanders in Wyoming have been reduced to ruins.

Many other sites are remembered only by historical markers, including the Council Bluffs Blockhouse in Iowa. And some are completely gone, such as the Missouri River-inundated Fort Bennett in South Dakota.

But why are some forts still around? And why are some gone? I like to tell people there are three rules about forts to explain that:

All forts are not created equal.

All forts are not treated equally.

All forts are not remembered equally.

Now, when I say “all forts are not created equal,” it refers to their construction. Think of it as the homes of the three little pigs–straw and sticks will fall; brick will stand. Forts built of adobe and of wood are in most instances gone; those of stone and brick are mostly still around.

Of course, not all forts could be built of stone. Forts were generally constructed from the materials that were at hand, and I can use my home state of Nebraska for all of these examples.

Fort Mitchell, near Scotts Bluff National Monument, was built of adobe, formed of sand, water, clay and organic material such as straw or even dried buffalo chips. Besides being cheap to build, adobe structures also needed continuous maintenance depending upon the materials used. In the western Nebraska climate, Fort Mitchell crumbled into dust within years of being abandoned.

Fort Atkinson on the Missouri River was built of timber and was well-maintained during its years of operation from 1819 to 1827. Without maintenance, it was in ruins by the time artist Karl Bodmer painted the site in 1833, just six years after the fort’s closing. That was due in part to the eastern Nebraska climate, but also to settlers in the area who lifted the fort’s precut lumber (as was often the case when forts were abandoned.)

When forts were abandoned, the wood-frame buildings were usually sold by the government and moved to nearby farms or towns. The buildings of Fort Hartsuff–located in central Nebraska–were built of concrete because of the gravel and limestone in the area. Since Fort Hartsuff’s concrete buildings couldn’t be moved when the fort was closed in the 1870s, a farm was built around the fort!


Fort Crook was established in 1894 with all of its buildings built of brick. Most of those buildings remain today as part of the fort’s successor–Offutt Air Force Base–and its 1894 guardhouse is the oldest continually operating prison in Nebraska.

As far as not being treated equally, some forts were maintained and updated through the years and some were intentionally destroyed. The original wooden buildings of Fort Omaha were replaced with redbrick structures at the turn of the century to enable it to survive. There were once around 90 wood-frame buildings at Fort Niobrara near Valentine; most of the buildings were sold when the fort was closed, and only a hay barn remains today.

And for being remembered: Fort Atkinson was rebuilt in the 1970s as a state historic park because of the enthusiastic support of local citizens and the state. The Friends of Fort Atkinson are there for the first weekend of every month in the summer as the fort’s soldiers, bakers, coopers, blacksmiths and laundresses to keep the fort alive. Fort Mitchell, however, had no such community support for its reconstruction, although it is remembered by a state historical marker.

So what makes the difference in a fort’s survival? I keep going back to threes–construction, climate and community–all of which have a say in whether you find a state park or a state marker when looking for a fort. Undboutedly, though, community is THE most important element in keeping forts alive today.

Jeff Barnes, forts of the Northern PlainsA freelance writer and fifth-generation Nebraska, Jeff Barnes is a former newspaper reporter and editor, past chairman of the Nebraska Hall of Fame commission, and former marketing director for the Durham Western Heritage Museum. He traveled more than 13,000 miles in researching and photgraphing Forts of the Northern Plains, his first book.

To buy Jeff’s book, click here:  Forts Of The Northern Plains: Guide to Historic Military Posts of the Plains Indians Wars

P&P Summer Contest Winners

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Yee-haw! We have some Sizzlin’ Summer Stampede of Prizes Contest winners!

Grand Prize goes to . . . . Melissa Conatser

Third Place Prize . . . . Aaron Martin

We have no 2nd place prize winner. Things kinda got in a big knot (probably due to Hurricane Ike.) It competely bumfuzzled us when we couldn’t get a reply from her email address. Darn the luck! We apologize for it taking so long to make the announcement.

So . . . . Charlene is going to give away that 2nd place prize to one lucky commentor on her Friday blog. The prize is: Pat Potter’s Lawless, Karen Kay’s Soaring Eagle’s Embrace, and Crossfire Trail (a Tom Selleck DVD.)

Everyone be sure and circle their calendar for Friday. Don’t want to miss your chance!

Mr. Jeff Barnes: Wednesday’s Guest

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In case you missed the announcement on Sunday, Mr. Jeff Barnes will be here bright and early tomorrow.

Mr. Barnes is a former newspaper reporter and editor and he’s written a dandy book. It’s called Forts of the Northern Plains and is full of all kinds of interesting information, some that just might boggle your mind.

We’re privileged and honored to have a man of Jeff Barnes’ character ride into Wildflower Junction. The dear man was once the press secretary for Ben Nelson, Nebraska’s governor. I do declare! The Fillies are tickled pink to have him visit our fair town.

I hope you’ll join us in welcoming him. Make a day of it. We’ll have lots of fun.

The Old Medicine Men — Who were they? What could they do?

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Howdy!

Although I’ve been talking recently about survival methods and preparedness and other things like this, I thought we might take a break to go over another topic that is dear to my heart.  The medicine man.  Next blog I’ll get back on topic of survival, okay?

Medicine men, who were they?  What could they do?  What were they expected to do?  As you might suppose, the medicine man was of necessity connected (more than any other member of the tribe) to the spiritual side of life.  If a boy showed promise, he would be taken under the wing of the current medicine and and trained rigorously.  His training would consist of scouting skills, where he would be required to be able to trace the paths of ants and other small, as well as large life.  He would be expected to be able to walk amongst the enemy without detection.  This helped to develop the mind of the boy, who was also taught as a scout to be able to detect in the wild when there was another and foreign presence.  Some of these scouts could tell you from the changes in air currents, when there was a foreign presence entered into the landscape and when there wasn’t.  He was also expected to survive with what he might consider luxury in any environment — going into it with nothing but the shirt on his back.

Many are the stories of medicine men who went out alone into some of the most hostile (yet beautiful) environments, where he was expected to “make it go right” and to survive and survive well.  Once mastered, the boy went on to train his body, and he was expected to train his body hard.  He joined in with games, he ran distances that would stagger us even by today’s standards — he was expected to be able to run all day with nothing but water to refresh him, and to arrive calmly and not even be out of breath.  The theory was that one had to have control over not only one’s mind, but be in the most excellent physical condition, if he were to be able to connect with the spiritual realm.  Both mind and body could hold the spirit back, thus the emphasis on training.

As you might expect, this training might take many years.  But once the boy had a master over his mind, as well as his body, he was ready to develop the other side his nature, the spiritual side.  Some call it the realm of the soul, some say spirit.  It was not the same as what we now have come to think of as a spiritualist.  Rather, the boy was expected to go out into the world and to observe it, to pray, to fast, to commune with the Creator and all life.  He was carefully watched and trained by the medicine man, but he was often sent out to remote places, there to find out who he was in relation to the world at large.

I have read some interesting tales of some of these medicine men, and their near escapes from death before they were at last able to trust to their environment and to the Creator.  I know of no tragedies.  I have read of some strife before the boy was able to become into possession of the spiritual side of life.

But what could a medicine man do?  What were his strengths?  What was expected of him?

All tribes were different, so let’s examine one tribe that I have studied somewhat — I don’t profess to know all there is to know about this subject.  Heaven forbid!  In the Lakota tribes (the Sioux), it was believed that the medicine men had lived amongst those supernaturals beings or lore, the Thunders, before his birth.   Thus, boys were watched for by the medicine man who would show signs that would point to his being able to become a medicine man.  Within the Sioux tribe (as well as the Blackfeet tribe) the medicine man was expected to be able to cure the sick, to foretell events that were important to the tribe and/or to a war party, good or bad.

Visions were extremely important, and a medicine man was often called upon to “interpret” dreams.  He was also expected to know (and his training did encompass) a thorough knowledge of herbs.  For instance, one of my best friends from the Blackfeet tribe told me that her medicine man told her that there are no poisonous berries, etc, that taste sweet.  Therefore, if you taste a berry and it is sweet, chances are that it might be okay to eat.  Now don’t try this and hold me responsible for it — I’m just relaying information.  But I know that my friend used to go around LA tasting all kinds of things, until I kinda took her aside and told her how worried I was about her doing this.  But you know something, she was never harmed by going around in the wild and tasting these fruits.

Medicine men were often very handsome when they were young.  Imagine, they have been trained all their life into physical alertness, they have trained to act in the best interest of their tribe, they have schooled their mind so that they us their skills only for the good of the people, and not evil, and they kept their word of honor as though their life might depend upon it.    Ritual was highly important, because a ceremony done incorrectly was believed to bring bad luck.   A medicine man was also expected to do such things as set broken bones, take care of sprains or pulled muscles and he was expected to be able to attend to deep wounds.  This they did without flinching.  If you’re interested in learning more about the medicine man, I might refer you to a children’s book that you can check out at your local library called THE INDIAN MEDICINE MAN by Robert Hofsinde (Gray-Wolf).  It makes for easy, yet fascinating reading.  And for even more information, might I also suggest the book, GRANDFATHER, by…goodness I can’t recall his name right now.   I’ll try to get hold of it and post it on the comments.

So tell me, what observations have you had about these things — i.e., physcial fitness, strength of mind, spiritual awareness?  Have you made any observations about these things?  For instance, I workout almost everyday (about 6 days a week usually), and I notice little things, like my strength increasing, despite the tendency of the body to keep getting older every day.  At present I’m here in Florida at my church where I’m hoping to attain better awareness of myself as a spiritual being, etc.  What about you?  Do you have any experiences that you’d like to share with me and others?  I’d love to hear what you have to say about this.  Oh, and while I’m at it, isn’t Adam Beach dreamy?

So come on in and let’s talk.  I’d love to hear from you.  And don’t forget, if you haven’t already done so, to purchase a copy of THE LAST WARRIOR today.  Just click on the link below.

Mary Connealy’s Big Win

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Woo-Hoo! Mary Connealy, our Filly sister, has some mighty big news and we’re tickled to death to tell you.

Mary attended the American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW) Conference over the weekend and she came away a winner.

She took home the ACFW Book of the Year in the short historical category with Golden Days! The story is set in Alaska during the Klondike Gold Rush. I’ll bet my hat that it’s a humdinger of a story.

Mary’s Petticoat Ranch was also nominated for the best book by a Debut Author. Can you beat that? We’re so proud of Mary that we don’t know what to do.

Send her your congratulations. She’ll love hearing from you.

Even the Kitchen Sink

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I like pretty things.  That’s why when I recently visited a preserved village of houses, shops and streets, I was struck by the pretty interior decor. These are original colors, furnishings and buildings restored to the 1860s. For those in driving proximity, it’s called Black Creek Pioneer Village in Toronto.

How about the rich milky turquoise on these walls? The lovely color surprised me. Isn’t this a stunning kitchen? Homesteaders usually started out with a small log cabin as a first home, as quickly as they could clear the trees to make room. This would’ve been their second house, after living off the land for sixteen years–a two-story structure with more expensive furniture.

Here’s my favorite room in another house—the kitchen where the village seamstress took in sewing and made hats. The original log house was built in the 1830s. The kitchen was framed as a later addition in the 1850s. I’m guessing the room is about 15 x 20. The seamstress packed in a lot of interesting activities into this kitchen, and it was definitely the place where she liked to hang out.

Before the invention of interior plumbing, pioneers used what was called a ‘dry sink.’ They looked pretty much like some of our cabinets today, but with no faucet. When they washed dishes, there would be two pails standing inside the dry basin, one with warm soapy water and the other with clear. They did a whole variety of jobs while standing by this window—anything that was messy or needed water.  Canning, preserving, handling cheese, washing hair, cutting meat and numerous others.

One way to bring a touch of rustic charm to a kitchen like seamstresses is by using red oak butcher block countertops. These countertops add warmth and character to the room and can withstand the wear and tear of daily use. Red oak is a popular wood choice for butcher block countertops because of its durability and unique grain patterns. To learn more about red oak butcher block countertops and how they can enhance your kitchen, visit their official site for more information.

The dry sink was positioned close to the stove, just as we like today, handy to grab a pot full of hot water or boil potatoes once they’d been peeled.  It was interesting to discover that villages like these, beyond the outskirts of a major city, were healthier than most because they had their own water wells. When epidemics like cholera, caused by contaminated water, plagued bigger cities, farms and villages that had their own water supplies were safe.

Here’s the sewing machine. (And a person dressed in costume demonstrating.)

And some other things the seamstress was working on—hats and dresses and clothing patterns cut of paper.

 

The decorations hanging near the sill caught my eye. I think it’s always been the woman who makes the home, who adds the pretty little touches and pats down all the feathers.

What’s your favorite room or corner in your house? Is there a special place where you like to read? Have you visited any interesting historical sites?

 http://www.katebridges.com

Click on a book cover to link to Amazon.

    

Winner of Jane’s Book DEEP IN THE HEART

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Quite a crowd on the streets of Wildflower Junction this weekend, wasn’t there?  Thanks for being our guest, Jane!  And thanks to all who came out for the occasion.

The names of all who commented are in the cowboy hat, and the winner of an autographed copy of DEEP IN THE HEART is….

NANCY LEVINE

Congratulations, Nancy!  Please send your address to Jane at: Jane@janemyersperrine.com and she will get that book out to you ASAP.

This week watch for announcements regarding our first special anniversary celebration!  We’re itchin’ to party.

Petticoats & Pistols